


Making my chaos calm

by comedy-witch (calamaris)



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Affection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calamaris/pseuds/comedy-witch
Summary: It becomes a little too much at work one night, and Steve helps you through it.
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	Making my chaos calm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jxnehxpper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxnehxpper/gifts).



> a short little hurt/comfort for my friend and resident pisces @jxnehxpper on tumblr

It’s been a long day and it isn’t even noon.

Keith was supposed to work tonight but he called you to fill in for him, telling you he wasn’t feeling well – though you know for a fact he’s lying so he can stay at home and play Super Mario Bros.

You haven’t been feeling like yourself lately. It’s not fever, it’s not a broken bone, it’s just this discomfort. Like your head is on wrong, or like you took the train and got off at the wrong stop. Usually this type of feeling passes, sometimes it’s just a slump. Sometimes you can’t work because the pressure is too much and you don’t think you can do your job right.

But how do you call into work for that? The answer is you don’t.

So you pull open the door to Family Video, immediately greeted with the heavy Saturday night traffic. Robin is absolutely swamped at cash, and Steve is desperately trying to help individual customers on floor. You clock in as fast as you can and join Robin on cash, filtering some of the more frustrated customers off of her shoulders and onto yours. The noise of the crowd is filtered out and all you can hear is static, listening to people complain. Someone jabs a finger in your face and then shoves their VHS tape under your nose, demanding it be fixed or given a refund. The VHS clatters on the counter, hits your fingertips, and you take it – because you don’t have the energy to do otherwise.

You catch Robin’s frown in the corner of your eye, and she moves you away from whoever it is but you don’t really register it. She tells you to go on cash and you just move over and do it. There’s no feeling, you don’t feel _anything._ And that’s a big problem for you. Because when the customer in front of you leaves the lineup and the next starts walking forward, Steve steps in front first.

And he’s already looking at you – worried, frustrated.

“Hey – are you okay?” he asks. His hand on the counter a silent comfort, one you can’t reach for but still there all the same. You can’t answer because you’re only a thread away from bursting at the seams. From what? You don’t know what. You don’t remember, do you?

“Steve,” Robin calls to him and he gives you a meaningful look before he pulls away, allowing the next customer to pass. You wonder how you look to him. Do you look different? You feel different. But there’s a gentleman waiting for you to answer him and so you do.

And so it goes on and on.

By the time it’s 9PM, all the customers have disappeared. The room is empty but it feels like the air of frustration lingers long after everyone’s exit.

You hear the click of the storage room and Steve comes out, “Robin just clocked out. You okay to close?” he says. He comes around because he can’t see your face.

“Hey did you hear me…”

And then your eyes start to well up and everything comes out at once. You lean on the counter, elbows digging into the linoleum sheet covering. You take in a deep breath but it just doesn’t feel like enough.

“Whoa, sweetheart,” Steve’s voice goes soft, and you can feel his hands on your shoulders, and so you turn into his arms, the panic in your throat rising to the surface as you let out a sob. Steve’s eyebrows pull together, distressed by your anguish. Your breathing comes out short and fast.

“Hey, look at me—” he says, holding your cheeks and making you look up into his eyes. “Breathe, okay? I got you. Here look,” he breathes in, exaggerating the movement so you can follow, and you do – breathing in and out. You can feel snot coming out of your nose and you’re about to pull away but Steve doesn’t relent, keeps leading you through big breaths of air until your hiccups subside and you don’t feel so near death’s door.

“You did great,” he smiles, and wipes your nose.

“Ew—Steve,”

“I am not afraid of your snot okay? My best friend is like ten years old.”

“He’s fourteen.”

“Who cares. C’mere.”

You laugh wetly and he smiles in return, all while he brushes tears off your cheek with his thumb. Eventually Steve decides to just use the sleeve of his shirt instead. He brushes your hair from your face, thumb soothing over your brow bone, looking a little more thoughtful than before.

“I’m so sorry that shithead treated you like that earlier I—” he shakes his head, blows out a breath through his mouth that upsets his bangs momentarily.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, taking his hand in your own. Steve shakes his head, laughing without mirth.

“No it wasn’t, it was awful. I should’ve let Robin kick his teeth in.”

“She would not.”

“Uh,” Steve’s eyes go wide, “You didn’t see her face. Trust me, he’d be on his way to the dentist if she’d had her way.”

You laugh again, and Steve leans against the counter, pulling you securely into his arms.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” he murmurs. You bow your head and he kisses your temple. “It’s obviously not nothing.”

You shake your head, playing with his nametag. “I just don’t feel like myself this week,” you look up at him and he tilts his head, giving you his full attention. “It feels all off, like I’m missing something I can’t remember.”

Steve folds his hands behind you, “You told me you were stressed out the other day – it’s gotten worse?”

You nod, your hand trailing up to curl his hair behind his ear. “It usually passes but…”

“Not yet,” he finishes and you nod again, with a sad little smile. He leans forward and kisses your cheek, and when you turn a bit, he kisses your mouth.

“I love you and I’m here for you. Whenever you need to talk.”

You sigh, “It just feels like it happens a lot and I don’t want to bother you with it.”

“Hey,” he tilts your chin up, shaking his head. “You are not bothering me when you talk to me, alright? I love listening to you talk. Could do it all day.”

“You have.”

“And I’ll do it again.”

You laugh, hugging him to you again, and he presses his mouth to your neck, kissing you affectionately. “Let’s close up quick and go get some junk food.” he says.

You pull back just enough to look at Steve’s face, “Come home with me?”

He smiles, “Always.”


End file.
